TMNT Leorai Week One Shots
by mysteryred
Summary: One shots for Leorai week on Tumblr. I may not get to each prompt as life is crazy right now. I do not own TMNT.
1. Injured

~ Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing. ~

– Anais Nin

Karai glared at Leonardo over the flashing steel, moonlight cutting the silver with streaks of white.

Leo's blue eyes pierced her heart, though she'd made up her mind never to admit it to him. They were such a breathtaking blue. There weren't words for such a striking color; rich, vibrant, electric, and _fearless_.

She found her breath wavering, her fingers trembling. She had him, pinned beneath her blade, against a storage closet on a rooftop in Brooklyn. The sound of cars rushing through the streets below hammered in her ears. _Or is it my blood? My heart is out of control. My breaths too fast. This is absurd._

He studied her, had the gall to raise his fingers to the blade.

"Don't!" she snapped, pressing the razor-sharp edge closer to his emerald neck.

He opened his palm, moved his hand away as if to surrender, but she knew he never would. "I just want you to come home, Karai. It's over now. Shredder doesn't control you anymore. You belong with us. You are Hamato. Come home with me."

He spoke gently, as if trying to coax a cat from a tree. The sound, as if she were fragile and might break, dragged across her insides like diamonds across glass. Her teeth set on edge, her wrist tipping to apply pressure. "Don't talk to me like that."

Leo's eyes darted between hers, his lips parting. That mouth, wide, inhuman, yet his smirk, that damn curve of it… her belly dipped, her heart hammering, lips aching.

"Talk to you how? It's okay." He shifted slightly, to move his head and she pressed harder, the blade biting into his neck.

He glanced down at the tanto, then to her. "Why are we doing this? It's over, Karai. You are safe now. Come home with me."

Her nostrils flared. What did he think? That she would just fall out of one house and into another? That this was simple? Well, it wasn't. Someone had to pay for what was done to her. And even after she'd exacted her revenge she didn't know if _good_ was something she could ever be.

"I'm not like you, Leonardo. I wasn't raised to help people. I'm a thief, an assassin." She leaned close over the cold steel, enunciating to be sure he heard her clearly. "I'm a killer. I'm evil. I'm dark. I'm lost. I. Don't. Belong. Anywhere."

 _Besides, you fool, if I follow you, you'll think you control me, and that's never going to happen._ Her breath fogged her reflection on the blade. "You'll never lead me."

Leo's mask bunched. "No, Karai, wait—"

The scent of sandalwood drifted into her nostrils, spicy and warm; it pleaded with her senses to soothe her, but she refused it. Held her breath so no more of him would work his way into her thoughts, even if she knew part of him was already carved into her heart. This wasn't their time. It may never come. She had work to do, and it didn't include following him around like a lovesick child.

Blood thrummed to her fingertips, leaving her hand as cold as the steel in her grip. She trembled a bit, and a faint glimmer of red dripped from his throat over the silver. He didn't make a sound, just locked eyes with her, and waited. She glanced at the crimson droplet, then into those wide cobalt eyes and stepped back. The second she did he began talking again.

"You are Hamato, Karai. Come home. Where you belong—"

Teeth bared she lunged at him, swiped, and he ducked, grabbed a katana and blocked her.

"I am _not_ Hamato!" she screamed. She knew when she said it she was lying, to him, to the world… to herself. But she had a plan. One he would never understand. One that would pin them as enemies. One that required her to live in the pit of hell. But for her revenge it would be worth it.

She attacked.

"I care about you, Karai!" Leo pleaded, blocking yet another strike.

"I hate you, Leonardo!" _But I don't. I don't._ The words pierced the air between them, sent him stumbling back. Air rushed in and out her nose, her heart pumping hard, body shaking. _Forgive me, but I don't. I can't. I couldn't. I never did._

Leo's eyes darted between hers.

 _Had he driven his blade in her gut?_ It felt like it. _Why did this hurt?_

He countered her strike, gained the upper-hand, pinned her to the wall and she hoped he'd kill her, end it, then she wouldn't have to put either of them through this.

He shook his head. "I don't believe you." He leaned forward, his lips ghosting hers over the flat of his katana, and he enunciated. "Not—for—a—second."

Her lips quivered, she pressed them flat, pursed them and tried to summon every ounce of hate she bore the Shredder, compelling herself to do what had to be done. "Well, it's true. I don't give a damn about you. And I'm not Hamato. I'm Oroku. Have been Oroku longer… it's all I know. And," she looked him square in the eye, "we are enemies and I'm going home, where I belong."

He gasped. "No. You don't mean that." His katana-wielding hand wavered, the blade drifting from her throat.

"I can assure you I do." She heard herself speaking, but wanted to wilt, to look away from those heart-stopping eyes, from the wound she was inflicting upon him, from the things she was proclaiming that she could not undo and might never come back from.

But could she ever be saved anyway? Had there ever really been hope for her? If there ever had been, he was staring her in the face and she was about to send him away.

His eyes became glossy, somehow even brighter. "B-b-but you know, you know the truth. Shredder stole you, Splinter is your father, we are your family, and I-I—"

Stop, Leo, for all that is good in you and deserves so much better, so much more, please, stop!

"And you what? Care for me?" She snorted. "Please." Her eyes drifted over him, all beautiful muscle, noble heart, honorable, and loyal. Yet her voice came out repulsed. "As if I could ever care for the likes of you. You're not even human."

I'm going to be sick. I have to get away.

The green of Leonardo's face faded to an ill shade of chartreuse, and he dropped his blade. He turned, his movements unusually slow and jerky for him, and she missed his grace, the way he seemed to float and glide. His shoulders slumped, his gaze cast over the blurry orbs of city lights, hazy against the strange mix of hot and cold in the air.

He took a few steps, and she thought he'd go quietly. But he stopped at the roof's edge, glanced at her in his periphery. "I don't know why you're doing this. But I refuse to believe it. Any of it. I know there's something between us, Karai. And when you're ready, I'll take you home."

She opened her mouth but couldn't speak. There was nothing left to say. As he leapt from the roof her insides were torn in so many ways. The yin and yang of her and of them, of the moon against the night sky, the air against the blade, the way things material and organic met and clashed, but sometimes fit together, complimented one another, understood each other.

The way Leo was light and she was certain she had to travel deeper in the dark if she'd ever have any hope of finding her way to him. Maybe she never would. But seeing the end of Oroku Saki at her hand, that would redeem her for all he'd made her do, all he'd put her family through, that would satisfy her. Yes, orchestrating his demise would bring her home. Whether her soul could be saved once she'd done it, well, maybe then she'd let Leo try.

She shivered, found the cold overtaking the heat. Or else it had fled the rooftop with him. Her hair whipped around her face, the ache in her heart making it difficult to breathe. Having something taken from you that you never knew you lost… like your mother, and your father… that was infuriating. But giving up the love of your life to redeem yourself hurt worse than the cut of Saki's sharpest blade.

"Farewell, Leonardo… we part the way we met, as enemies."

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted updates to my other stories. I'd planned to spend much of Christmas break playing with my kids and writing. Instead I was sick with a head cold for most of it. The cold drained into my left ear and I still can't hear out of it. Because the fluid is blocking my ear it's given me vertigo, and I fell down the steps at my house, on my spine (which wasn't good to begin with). And now my dog is having emergency surgery to save her life. There's a gofundme on my dA page (Mysteryred1) for that enormous bill. My chin is up though, and I do have this great little one shot and one other that I wrote last month ready for Leorai week. I'd hoped to write all seven days but life is happening, and I'm trying to get Episode 1 of my collaborative original piece **Darkwood Feathers: A Rogue Feather** ready for publishing within the next two weeks (it will be on Kindle and other sites). I'll try to upload more about it on my dA page and Tumblr blog ( amunetred) soon. I'm sorry if you've reviewed and I haven't done my usual reply thank you note. Hugs to you especially, Andraia, I'm grateful, they lifted me up when I was sick and I appreciated them. Beauty, I'm still looking for your address so I can mail you those cards, I have a deck waiting for you! Thank each and every one of you for being the awesome readers you are, my friends, hugs to each of you!


	2. My Sacrifice

**My Sacrifice**

We've seen our shares of ups and downs

Oh how quickly life can turn around

In an instant

It feels so good to reunite

Within yourself and within your mind

Let's find peace there.

-Creed

"He doesn't know anything! Leo, he doesn't know anything!" Michelangelo pleaded with his brother, his blue eyes flashing from Stockman's bug face to the sharp edge of Leo's katana pressed to what he thought might be the insect's throat.

Leonardo's eyes narrowed, he applied a hint more pressure, was greeted by the crunch of surface skin on the bug-man's neck. Lime green liquid oozed out over the steel.

Stockman winced, then begged, "P-p-p-leaz-z-zzz, I havvvven't s-s-seeen her-r-r-r."

"Liar!" Leo snarled, lifting his wrist, dragging the blade a hair deeper.

"Leo! He doesn't know anything!" Michelangelo's hand appeared on Leo's plastron, guiding him away from the pinned fly that flipped and buzzed before scrambling to his feet and leaping from the rooftop. He flew away much like a drunk walked, dipping and rising in a bizarre crooked path.

Leonardo pinched between his eyes. "Someone knows something. She's back here somewhere. I can, I can…" Leo's shoulders slumped, his eyes closing. "I can feel it—her."

Mikey was silent a moment before he started to fidget beside Leonardo. Leo's eyes opened. He lowered his hand from his face, watching his little brother in his periphery.

"What were you doing out here before you ran into Stockman?" Leo asked, scanning the rooftop they stood on, then the surrounding ones, knowing the area to be full of brownstones and more upper middle-class than what they usually traveled.

Mikey drug his toe along the tar coated roof, drawing his hands behind his back. He gazed toward the moon, high and full, partly covered by the outline of a cloud.

" _Mikey_ ," Leo warned, stepping closer to him.

Michelangelo frowned. "I'm just trying to help. I'm not supposed to say anything right now."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Well that's not cryptic. Spill it. And don't leave anything out."

His little brother turned fair blue eyes on him. "I'm sorry, Leo. You'll just have to talk to her."

Leo thrust his face in Michelangelo's. " _You_ know where she is!"

Mikey stepped back, glanced over Leo's shoulder and lifted his chin acknowledging someone. "Seems now you do, too," he said, then he turned and left.

Leonardo's entire back tightened, his heart picking up an uncomfortable, erratic beat. A firm breeze blew, the slight chill of it whispering hints of autumn laced with the warmth in fading remnants of summer. And there bleeding into the scents of fast food, tar, gasoline, and his own sweat were light uplifting sweeps of floral. It was a mild fragrance, sweet, and intoxicating. He knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Hello, Leo." Her voice was soft, reluctant. Not at all the bold, defiant creature she'd been when he'd met her. The sound, her words, the way she said his name, seemed like a needle prick to his heart.

He turned to face her, noting that he needed to drill his brother for an explanation later. She stood in the corner of the rooftop, dressed in a solid black bodysuit, her armor nowhere to be found. Her hair had grown to her shoulders, the blonde gone, replaced with a strange color, very dark but not black. His muscles coiled to launch himself at her, sweep her into his arms and bury his face in those locks. But he shifted his weight to his heels as if to cement them to the ground.

Where had she been? Why did she look so… different? Yet not? She seemed to study him too, while his eyes roved the delicate curve of her neck, the willow silhouette of her a lithe shadow within a shadow. She was thinner than he remembered her. Her cherry-colored lips were pressed into a flat line so he could not determine her mood. Her eyebrows, ivory cheeks, and brow were all smooth, emotionless… no help there.

Then their eyes met. Those damn eyes, gems the color of honey, catching moonlight, reflecting it in shimmering tiny white circles in the center of her irises that grew larger with every step she took towards him. His pulse quickened, the sound of blood pumping through his skull growing louder with her every footfall.

He blinked once and there she was, eye to eye with him. "How have you," a gloved finger rose, slid across his shoulder, "been?"

His plastron rose and fell, his nostrils pumping, inhales of sweet floral seduction, exhaling all the questions he couldn't focus well enough to ask. In—she traced the outline of his shoulder—out—she lowered her hand, tugged it free of the glove. The edge of her mouth tipped up, tiny wrinkles flashing at the corner of mysterious golden eyes that tracked the path her finger had traveled.

Leonardo blinked. She was so close, so in his face, the scent of her heady and strong, yet subtle and somehow making his mouth water. Heat seemed to seep from her, wafting off her in droves rushing up to his pebbled flesh and coaxing him closer.

His subconscious frowned, crossed his arms and tapped his foot. _She has questions to answer. This is unacceptable. You need_ —inhale— there came the light airy aroma— _to_ —exhale— _focus_. Leo raised tingly fingers to his head, rubbing absently and she giggled.

The sound struck him like a roundhouse to the plastron, he'd heard it so very little, and it always reminded him that she was his age, not as old as she or— he realized— even he, behaved. It was the laugh of someone without care, but Karai's burdens had been great. So while he relished the sound, it confused him, struck the breath from him.

"What's… w-w-what's so funny?" he managed to ask, running his fingers over his face as the back of his head began to ache.

"You, uh..." She motioned a finger toward his mask, took it upon herself to straighten it where he'd shifted it out of place.

As her fingers brushed his skin, he soaked in the feel of them, smooth, warm, soft. And he wondered what the rest of her felt like… if he'd ever know.

He took a step back, even though he wanted to rush forward. Then he cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on the top of her head. Perhaps he could think properly if he wasn't gazing into sparkling long-lashed eyes, or plump red lips—his heart lashed at his ribcage—or, or, or….

What is that? His fingers reached out of their own accord. Beginning at the top of her head, his thumb ran along her silky locks and he craned his neck, found his feet carrying him so close to her his plastron pressed against her breast. His eyes feasted upon, what the moonlight reflected in the mix of her hair, the strange color that was not black… but _blue_.

"Do you like it?" she whispered, her lips ghosting his cheek.

His eyes shut, the fine strands falling from his fingers as he grabbed her arms pulling her close, tipped his head a fraction and found her mouth. His fingers relished the feel of small firm muscle, the way her skin dipped in his grasp and he reminded himself he could hurt her, loosened his hold just slightly but still eager to feel her as close as she'd let him get. And she didn't push him away, but grabbed the tails of his mask and swept her hot wet lips over his mouth… then moaned his name. _His name._

Leo's blood burned, her small mouth working his, and he breathed her in, floral, then tasting of cinnamon and honey. "Karai," he murmured, inhaling her breath, exhaling his worries, all concerns and reason abandoned.

What she did to him was unlike anything else… bewitched him, seduced him, beguiled him, and he wanted it, all of it. With her he wasn't responsible for planning, he had no missions to account for, she demanded nothing, hadn't asked him for anything; she did not depend upon him. Yet he needed her to hold him. She understood the responsibility he shouldered, reprieved him of it, if only for a while. And he wanted her everything, even if he hadn't thought about what that entailed.

His stomach swirled and fluttered, his heart jerked… she was back, she was in his arms, and he would not sacrifice this, not her… never again.


	3. Space Heroes

~ Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished:

if you're alive, it isn't. ~

– Richard Bach

Karai sat nestled in the pile of floor cushions, wrapped in the hideous orange plaid blanket Michelangelo had left out for her. Her hair was still wet from the shower, the ends dripping. Cold air greeted her exposed neck, and she shivered then drew the blanket up higher.

Heat wafted up from the tea cup on the floor to her right. She reached for it, held it close to her face, inhaling the light mildly sweet aroma before taking a cautious sip. Honey and chamomile greeted her tongue, not too hot, and she took two swallows before resting her brow against the side of the mug.

Her eyes burned, puffy and swollen she was sure. Thankfully her hosts had long gone to bed, but not before showing her where everything was. They were giving her space, and she was grateful. It wasn't until near scalding water rushed from the shower head, crashing against her skin, that she felt her muscles fall slack. Her back was knotted, hands seeming to remain curled in fists, her thighs and calves sore. She'd washed away the filth of her actions, at least tried to. Actions that left her stomach in a churning pit, seeming to clench and spasm tighter until it crashed upon itself into a painful knot.

It was when she took that first deep, full breath that it broke free. The cry seemed to spring from her aching heart right to her mouth in one leap. At the same moment oxygen hit her lungs her knees buckled. She slumped against the tile wall, begging the spray to wash the memories from her brow, sobs erupting like a geyser. She cursed herself for such weakness.

But what had she done?

She stared at the grout between the cracked gray tile, at the droplets beading and gathering, dripping and falling. The same way she had. She'd lost control of her life, reeling in the lies, but she'd regrouped then slipped in with deceit and betrayal of her own… but it had been more of a leap than a fall.

A life of lies.

Even as she poured the contents of the vial into Saki's cup she knew she was acting the way he would, the way he'd raised her… with vengeance. Only he'd choose a bloodbath to defeat his enemy. And she'd simply deceived him. Although, knowing what she was doing as she did it, made her sick.

But what choice did she have? She wouldn't live this lie any longer. And he'd never quit hunting the Hamato's. He'd never let her go. For certain there was no way he was getting away with all he'd done. No. It had been up to her to set things right, because she could get inside. She'd convinced him of her allegiance, and when the moment was right she'd dispatched of him without grandeur. He didn't deserve it, a spectacle. Probably wouldn't want anyone to see him fail anyway. No he deserved to die alone in his chambers…

She sipped her tea, grateful for the warmth seeping into her fingers. Melt me from the inside, soothe away the hurt with warm blankets, hot showers, and tea. She sighed. They were all creature comforts. What she really needed was a distraction. Something to keep her from the glaring, flashing billboard in her head that alternated with images of a dying Saki and his last words to her… the betrayal in his dying eyes, the hurt. She'd felt sorry for him, for a split second she doubted her actions, but couldn't undo them.

She shouldn't have gone back.

Her head ached, her mind a mix of her past and present a tumult of her actions and reactions that pounded at her skull. She retreated farther into the blanket, the scent of pizza rising up from the fleece. For a moment she pondered where she was, marveled at how upside down things had become. Her entire life had been a lie, and this was her new truth.

She didn't know if she could stay though. Didn't know if she could ever redeem herself for all she'd done to them. Yet there she was, showered, fed, left to her thoughts… Michelangelo had provided her blankets, Raphael had tossed her the TV remote and Donatello stuck around to show her how to use it and even offered up his laptop should she want that. Then Leo had brought her a cup of tea and a stack of VHS tapes that must've been twenty years old… older than them.

They'd done their best, offered what they had. Splinter had pulled her aside when Leonardo brought her home. Her true father. He'd told her he was there when she was ready to talk, if she wanted. An all too familiar plummeting sensation gripped her insides, weighing her down and her body grew heavy.

 _I can't think about this anymore. It's exhausting._ She set down her tea cup and curled into a ball beneath the blanket, staring at the dark TV screen. Seconds passed, bled into minutes, which felt like hours… She tossed, turned, kicked out her feet, and groaned. A glance at the clock on the wall showed her two things, one, seconds actually were minutes that had become hours, and two the picture backdrop on the clock matched the cover of the VHS tapes Leo had offered to her.

With a deep resigning sigh she threw back the blanket and reached for a movie. In a few minutes she had the old set on, the volume low, and the opening credits appeared.

When Karai woke the TV was off, the trail of tapes and their boxes collected and neatly stacked beside it. She rubbed her eyes, sauntered to the bathroom and tried to avoid looking herself in the mirror. She should look, probably appeared awful without her make-up, but at the moment she couldn't face herself. It would have to wait.

She heard noise in the dojo and Leo appeared in the doorway as she passed.

"So what'd you think?" he asked, his blue eyes eager and bright.

She blinked, raised her eyebrows. "O-o-of what?"

"Space Heroes, of course! I saw that you watched the whole series. I mean every movie was out of the case… What'd you think?" His smile was almost dopey. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch, eager to rise and held them firm.

"You are a nerd." She replied. She rolled her eyes and made her way to the kitchen.

As she sat, before yet another steaming cup of tea, and a slice of buttered toast, all that she could manage to force herself to eat, Leo and his brothers filled their plates with eggs and bacon, toast and fruit. Apparently April O'Neil kept groceries stocked, and Michelangelo delighted in cooking for them.

"There's a lost episode. It's rare and hard to find," Leo said, taking a seat next to her.

"Here we go again," Raphael groaned, sitting on her other side.

"I'm going to assume we're talking about Space Heroes," Donatello said, filling his plate. "And he's right, there is a lost episode." He glanced at Karai, flashed her a knowing smile.

Internally she groaned. Donatello's laptop was gone this morning too.

"It's subbbposed," Michelangelo chewed, eggs bouncing around to the front of his mouth, "to be abbowed Cabbain Ryan, nom-nom," he swallowed, closed his eyes, smiling as he savored his food before continuing, "It's supposed to be about Captain Ryan and Celestial, where he finds out the version of her he killed wasn't really her but a clone made by his enemies. The real Celestial had been kidnapped. But then she's mind controlled…" His eyes widened, his gaze drifting back and forth between Leo and Karai. "Uh, you know what—"

Raph leapt from his chair, clamping his hand over Michelangelo's mouth and dragging him from his chair. "Oh, you hear that? Sensei's calling all knuckleheads," he rubbed Michelangelo's skull, "That's you!"

He dragged Michelangelo from the room, mumbling something to his little brother that Karai didn't make an effort to hear. She stared into her tea cup. Did Leo think that? That she would betray him again? Did he compare her to Celestial?

"Ahem, well, I've got something I need to check on in the lab. I'm just, I'll just, huh, he-he, uh, be going." Donatello rambled as he left the kitchen.

Great. Just great. They were alone. The chances of Leo slipping off like his brothers was next to nil.

"You know the episode where Captain Ryan disintegrates Celestial after she betrays him?" Leo began.

Karai closed her eyes. This is stupid. I'm not — "I'm not doing this with you, Leo. I can't, not right now." She stood, pushing her chair back. "I'm going out."

 **A/N:** See Part II: It's Not a Date, for the rest of this short story.


	4. It's Not a Date

~ Time decides who you meet in life,

your heart decides who you want in your life,

and you behavior decides who stays in your life. ~

– Ziad K. Abdelnour

It was nightfall when she returned to the lair. The boys were just reaching the turnstiles when she stopped in front of Leonardo.

"We were just about to go looking for you." Leo's voice was soft, his brothers immediately backing away, turning and clearing the room in three different directions.

She held a shopping bag in one hand, a take-out bag in her other. "I uh," she licked her lips, set her eyes on him. "I'm not… her. I won't, I won't betray you ever again, Leo." Her heart picked up an erratic pace, her grip tightening on her packages.

Blue eyes stared at her and she couldn't read them. Wondered what he was thinking. Large green fingers relieved her of the take out, a small smile playing on his mouth. "Murakami's?"

"Y-y-yes. I thought, I…" Why couldn't she do this? Why was it so damn hard? She thrust the shopping bag into his plastron. "Let's watch it together."

Leo's mask furrowed. "Excuse me?"

She marched past him to the kitchen, grabbed two sodas from the fridge and returned to find the takeout bag by his feet as he stared open mouthed at the missing Space Heroes episode in his hands. "You found it."

Karai sighed. It wasn't that any of them couldn't find it. It wasn't even that they couldn't have ordered it and had it delivered to April's Dad's apartment. It was expensive, a collector's item. Truth was, she'd looked up Space Heroes on Donatello's laptop after thinking along the same lines of Leo's brothers. That she was too much like Celestial, and Leo modeled himself after Captain Ryan, right down to the ridiculous speeches. But she had her own bank account, her own earnings, and she spent the day searching every collectors hole in the wall dump until she'd found it.

"Let's watch it together, just you and me." She said, placing the sodas on the floor next to the food and taking the tape from his emerald green fingers.

"L-l-like, like, like a date?" he stammered, his eyes falling to the take out, the tape in her hands then locking on her.

She stared at him. A date? Of all things. Just days ago she killed the man she thought was her father. She couldn't be thinking about dating right now! But there was the take-out, the movie, and him, and she did want to watch the movie with just him. Was that a date? But she also wanted to talk to him after the movie…. Oh god, that's a date. That is a date. Isn't it? No. No…

She lifted her chin. "I won't call it that." Her hands were shaking as she shoved the movie in the player, spun on her heel, and marched over to a cushion. She pointed him to the one beside her and reached for the take out.

He sat watching her as she divided up the gyoza.

"Stop staring at me, Leo." She refused to look at him, instead started the movie.

They watched in silence, eating gyoza until there was nothing left and her belly was full. It was the most she'd eaten in weeks, and her stomach hurt for it. She honestly didn't care. There was some escape in the stupid show too. Even if in some creepy way it paralleled some parts of their lives.

In the movies climax Celestial broke free of the mind control with Captain Ryan's help and he held her in his arms feeding her ridiculous lines. "Celestial, my beloved, at long last we can be together. I'll let nothing stand in our way again!"

"Oh, Captain Ryan, you saved me!"

Seriously? What crap. Karai frowned as the credits rolled. It was a happy ending. So why did it bother her so much? Maybe it was that Celestial should've saved herself…

Leo leapt to his feet. "That was awesome! I mean my favorite part was when Captain Ryan led his team into battle!"

He paced before her, waving his hands, "He was like, _'don't be cowards, I don't care if they outman us, if they have blasters, and shape-shifters, and toxic sludge_ '! And they did it! Then he had Celestial, and she was all—" he imitated a female voice and Karai thought she'd choke on her soda, "' _my hero'_!" he looked at Karai batting his eyes, then reached down and grabbed her biceps lifting her up before him, smiling wide, "It… was… AWESOME!"

Her eyes darted between his. There was something unreserved about his behavior, something more like Michelangelo, it was thoughtless, impulsive, and… innocent.

It was downright, juvenile.

And she loved it.

His smile faded, his gaze softening, the childishness seeming to give way to something more profound. He lowered her feet to the floor, loosened his grip on her arms, rubbed them lightly.

She wanted five seconds ago back, envied that even he could find moments to let go, to be free. To be the teenager he was, aside from being a mutant turtle, and a damned ninja, it was almost normal. Even Leo could be normal.

"Thanks for getting the movie, and the take-out." He let go of her arms, rubbed the back of his mask with one hand. "If this… was… a first date… I'd say it was pretty awesome."

Karai stepped back, started gathering the take-out boxes up, shoving them in the bag they came in. "Well it wasn't a date," she said, more to herself than to him and doubting her words even as she spoke them.

"Okay, it wasn't. But it was really great. Thank you," he said, reaching over to help clean up. They both reached for the same soda can, his fingers brushing hers.

Her heart fluttered, her pulse becoming an audible sound in her head. _Whoosh. Whoosh._ She swallowed as her fingers released the can, stroking the back of his hand as his palm curled around hers, his thumb making small circles over her skin.

He was looking at her, so hard her cheeks burned, and she couldn't help it. There were two freedoms she wanted. One was to be childish on occasion, and the other was to love him without reservation. And she'd known both of those things for a while, but had resolved never to act on them… at least not until she'd gotten herself together.

But there they were.

Her torso instinctively turning to face him, his plastron shifting closer to her breast, his fingers drifting from the top of her hand up her arm, skimming her shoulder, gracing the gentle curve of her neck before his fingers ran through her hair, guiding her to him. The scent of sandalwood rushed her like a warm embrace, as his other hand found the small of her back. She found herself reaching for him, wanting to let go, to not think, to simply act. All that being a ninja would forbid. She stroked the tails of his bandanna then touched his cheek, her eyelids fluttering as her gaze settled on his mouth…

Then his lips were against hers, cool, wide, soft… there was no thinking, there was only her and him. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, breath trapped in her throat leaving her mind a delightful blurry haze. As their lips parted and met again, and again, a thought crept in… She broke away, pressed her brow to his and whispered, "Fine, I guess you could call it a date."


End file.
